Surviving The Turmoil
by Elijah Wood Fanatic
Summary: This story takes place after Harry finds out about the prophesy. See how he copes and begins to crack under the strain. Warning: cutting, depression, and suicide present in this story. Be warned. I hope you enjoy.
1. First Reactions

First Reactions

Words were no longer enough, smashing things was no longer any help. He wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him. That hatefully calm old face. He turned on his heels and ran towards the door, seized the doorknob, and wrenched it open. He darted down the stairs and the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. He didn't know where he was going. His feet were carrying him far away, as his mind raced with all that had happened . . . _neither can live while the other survives _. . .

Before he knew it, he was in the Forbidden Forest, going deeper than he had ever dared to go. Not caring if he'd be lost in it's depths forever. All he knew was the swelling in pain in his heart and an increasingly painful cramp in his side.

He ran until he was doubled over with the pain from his side. He fell to his knee's, his head hanging, sweat pouring off of his body. He wanted out, he wanted it to end, he had seen more than he had ever wanted to see. He had lost his parents, a school mate, and now, mere hours before, Sirius Black. He was the closest thing he had ever had to a parent. Someone who actually loved him. With that thought, he wretched violently on the grounded beneath him. It was all too much, way too much.

Then something caught his eye. Something glinting in the monotonous moon light. He shakily moved over and picked it up. It was a shard of glass. Encrusted in many layers of dirt.

_'Probably from one of Professor Trewlawney's sherry bottles when she went on her little escapades.' _He thought bitterly.

The glint of the glass had an effect on him he would never understand. It ignited a sort of longing inside of him. Like here was the solution to all of his pain. As he wiped the dirt off the shard, he slit his finger on the glass. The spark of pain was all it took to let him know he was still alive, still able to feel. As the pain past, he longed for more. The pain he felt was completely different from what he was going through right now. He longed to get away from the gapping whole in his heart. With that thought. He tentatively pushed the edge of the 'blade' against his wrist. He bit back a scream as the pain seared across his left wrist. He stared at it as his blood leaked out of the cut. He subconsciously picked up the shard of glass and pressed it deeper into his skin.

The blood started to flow an easy, crimson color. He laid down, his head spinning from the amount of blood flowing out of the cut. He thought he was going to die right her, right now. _'At least I'll be with Sirius again.'_ And with that thought he let the darkness consume him.

But the pleasurable peace didn't stay very long. He was soon being awaken by someone calling his name

"Harry! Harry!" called a distantly familiar voice.

"Come on, he would never be in this deep!" said another voice that seemed to spark another flame of furry. He went to move to get out of the way, but when he moved, unbelievable pain seared through his body and he groaned.

"Harry? HARRY!" said the first voice, sounding panicked as the person caught sight of him, "Harry, what happened? Harry say something! Anything!"

Harry willed himself to open his eyes and at once regretted it as the ground began to sway dangerously beneath him.

"What happened to him Lupin?" said the second voice. _'Lupin, that's who it was'_ Harry thought with a sense of realization.

"How am I suppose to know?" Lupin shot back bitterly, "Harry, say something. Please" As Harry opened his mouth to respond, he started coughing violently. He wasn't aware of the hands grabbing him under his arms and pulling him into a sitting position, as he started to cough up blood. When his coughing fit ended, Lupin said, "We need to get him back to the castle." But Harry didn't hear the response as he fell back into unconsciousness.

He awoke (he guessed) early the next morning for there was barely any light shinning through the window. Still feeling extremely queasy, he didn't even bother opening his eyes. But despite that little fact, someone next to him knew he was awake.

"How are you feeling Harry?" came the anxious but clearly relieved voice of Remus Lupin

"Fine." Harry said shortly, knowing he had just stated a down right lie.

"Harry . . . Please talk to me. I'm worried!" Lupin said. Harry snorted. Worried? Worried for the Boy-Who-Lived more like it. He understood now. They just wanted their savior happy and safe. But he was now out of their reach, he was depressed passed their understanding, and no matter what anyone did, he would always be a danger to himself. His thoughts were now his most deadly aspect.

"Harry! Please I'm grieving too! It'll make it a lot easier if we stay together." Lupin said noticing the distant, glazed look in his eyes. Suddenly he snapped out of it and glared daggers at Lupin.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M GOING THROUGH! NO ONE DOES! YOU HAVE _**NO IDEA!**_" Harry screamed so suddenly that Lupin jumped .

"Harry, I do, I lost him too." Lupin said as unshed tears glistened in his eyes, sending new waves of guilt at him. The guilt was continually gnawing at him. _'It's my fault. All my fault. And it's killing Lupin that he's gone.'_ Harry thought. But it just enraged him more that he was hurting Lupin, but the rage wasn't directed at anyone but himself. He needed an outlet and Lupin was still there.

"YES! YOU LOST A _BROTHER_! I LOST A _FATHER_! THE ONLY FATHER FIGURE I'VE EVER KNOWN!" Harry screamed, pulling his knees to his chest while resting his head on them. His hands practically pulling his hair out in frustration, anger, guilt, and sorrow. Just like before, yelling wasn't enough. He needed something sharp. He needed Lupin to leave.

"Lupin, please just leave me alone." He said sounding considerably calmer. The sudden change in his voice is what startled Lupin to leave. The thing that kept him going was the unbelievably noticeable pleading note in his voice. Little did he know what would take place when he left.


	2. A Silent Hell

A Silent Hell

As soon as Harry heard the click of the door, he quickly started scouring for something sharp, anything sharp. But the further he got, the tears fell more rapidly. When his sight was completely obscured, he gave up and sank back into his bed. But wrenching sobs soon escaped his mouth against his will. Madam Pomphrey had come and gone with the ruckus and decided to leave him in peace. As his sobs subsided, he eventually fell into an unexpectedly calm sleep.

As soon as he awoke the next morning, Madam Pomphrey checked him over then released him. He walked aimlessly around the corridors for a little time. He knew he should be in the Great Hall eating breakfast, but he wasn't very hungry. As he wandered, his thoughts drifted to the prophesy _…and one must die at the hand of the other…_ That was his fate. He had to either be murdered or a murderer; neither he could live with. If he failed, all of the people who had died for him would have been in vain. If he succeeded he would have killed another human, no matter how cruel and evil he was, he would have killed another man. He wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he had taken another life.

That's were his thoughts usually strayed over the next couple of weeks. Before he knew it, he was packing his trunk to go back home. Home. No, he wouldn't call it that. He was leaving his home; he was heading back to his hell, not his home. That sounded most appropriate.

"Are you coming down for the feast?" Ron asked Harry looked up to see his concerned face fixed on him. He was used to it now. That's all he'd been getting from anyone now. Not that he could blame them, he hadn't been himself lately. True, he hadn't had any cutting episodes, but he barely ate, usually secluded himself in his room, and lashed out at his friends more often than he would have liked.

"Yeah, in a bit." He said in a monotone. Ron gave him one more look before turning and heading toward the common room.

After a few minutes of checking that he had everything, he sighed. There was no escaping now. He had to go down to the feast, although he didn't know how his stomach would handle the food. It had been at least three days since he had eaten anything at all, and before that, he barely ate anything.

He headed towards the stairs, thoroughly dreading this evening. All the joyous people would drive him insane. He didn't think he could handle all the people enjoying themselves while he sat drowning in his misery, his never ending grief.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked softly as she caught sight of him in the stairwell. All he did was nod and motion for the portrait whole.

"How have you been Harry?" Hermione asked trying to keep the concern from her voice.

"Spectacular!" Harry spat sarcastically.

"How long do you have to stay at your aunt and uncles house-"

"Who said he had to go back?" Ron cut across her

"I do." Harry said gloomily, ending an argument before it even began.

"Oh." Ron said, his ears turning red.

The rest of the way down to the Great Hall was traveled in silence. When they entered the Hall the Gryffindor table was practically full. They luckily found three seats apposite of Neville, Dean, and Ginny just as Dumbledore stood to make his speech.

"Another year ends, and for some, this is a grateful feat." At this he looked mournfully at Harry, "But I hope to see you all next year for another year of learning. And to those saying goodbye to use this year, I wish you luck for the future. Let's eat!" Harry started reluctantly piling food onto his plate. Oh Merlin how he dreaded this. As he started picking at his mashed potatoes a conversation was sparked between Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Dean. He didn't participate. He sat silently eating a little of his food. By the time he finished eating, he felt ridiculously nauseous.

"Harry, are you okay? You look a little pale." Hermione asked with concern weaved into her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I think I'm going to turn in early."

"'Night mate." Ron said.

As he walked into the Entrance Hall, he was suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. He leaned against the cold wall right outside the Great hall doors and will for his world to become steady again. But as his dizziness passed, his queasiness increased tenfold. He staggered up to the dorm and barely made it to the dorm bathroom before he retched violently.

When he was finished he slowly stood up and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and exited the stall. He shakily walked over to the sink and washed out his mouth. He glanced up and looked in the mirror. He hated the reflection staring back at him. This wasn't Harry, this wasn't the person he was known for. How did he crack? _When_ did he crack. He figured it had to happen sooner or later, but not how was he to fix it? He couldn't stand himself. He couldn't take being The-Boy-Who-Lived anymore. He couldn't stand being The Chosen One. He had seen enough. He had been through enough. He had seen enough people he cared about diminish at Voldemort's hand. He wanted _out._

Out of pure frustration, Harry raised his fist and with a cry of aggravation slammed it into the mirror. It shattered under his fist, slicing his knuckles and causing a maniacal thought to cross his mind. Harry confidently picked up a piece of the shattered mirror, and with an unusual glint in his eyes slammed it across his left wrist, and then his right. This was it, he had had enough and now he was ending it.

Tears were slowly leaking out of his eyes as he pushed himself up against the far wall of the bathroom. It was at that moment that he heard the door open slowly and tentive footsteps followed closely after.

"Harry? Harry, are you – Merlin!" Ron stated in surprise when he saw Harry sitting with his back against the wall. By this time, Harry was so dizzy he couldn't keep his focus on anything. As he looked up, he saw the blurry image of Ron making his way over to him very cautiously.

Ron could see Harry's eyes were completely glazed over and out of focus. He felt a wave of complete and total helplessness wash over him as he looked at his broken friend. The strong, undefeatable person who he considered more of a brother to him than any of his own, was now crumpled and defeated on the floor.

"Ron -" Harry croaked, bringing Ron out of his stupor.

"It's okay." Ron said calmly, though he was panicking inside. So much blood on the ground. He had to get Hermione or Harry would be lost.

"Ron … I really messed up…" Harry stated as he stood up. Once on his feet he stumbled back until he hit the wall. _Oh Merlin_ he thought as the strong sense of vertigo made him feel like vomiting.

"Ron, I'm so sorry. It just, oh hell, Ron, it hurts so much" Harry said through clenched teeth. His eyes squeezed tightly shut. He slid down the wall into the same sitting position. His body wasn't up for this, he wasn't strong enough, he could feel the darkness creeping in, he had to fight it. For Ron. He was always fighting for someone else. He was in so much agony. He knew he messed up, he knew that everything was completely screwed. He just needed to let Ron know he was sorry, that it wasn't his fault. When he opened his eyes, he vaguely saw Ron kneeling in front of him. Harry felt him take his wrist and sucked in a sharp breath as Ron tightly wrapped a towel around the gashes.

"I'm going to go get Hermione, she can help." Ron said in a rush. Harry didn't respond, he was trapped in his own mind, a strong fever coming about unknown. He was trapped in his own thoughts, his own grief that started this all … and maybe ended it too…

Now please, don't kill me, it seemed like a very good place to leave off. It was just too perfect, I'll post as soon as I can next. Please Review, I really appreciate it. Thanks!


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